Sweet Baby James
by Graceful Bard
Summary: Ron and Hermione are babysitting their eight month old godson for the weekend, and they are determined that nothing will go wrong.


It was three o'clock in the morning, and Ron was terrified.

More terrified than he'd been when he faced Aragog. More terrified than he'd been when he fought in the Department of Mysteries. More terrified than he'd been when he destroyed Riddle's locket. More terrified, even, than he'd been when he asked Hermione to marry him.

The object of Ron Weasley's terror lay in his arms, crying. James Sirius Potter would not go back to sleep.

Ron had tried everything. Ginny had left a detailed list of instructions when she and Harry had dropped James off that afternoon. It was the first time they had felt comfortable leaving James with anyone overnight since he was born; James had been almost two months early, a premature and sickly baby who hadn't been released from St. Mungo's until six weeks after his birth. Once James was home, he required nearly constant care. Ginny and Harry had not had a night to themselves in over eight months.

When Harry and Ginny had first asked Ron and Hermione to babysit for a weekend while the new parents took a much-needed break, Ginny had informed them in no uncertain terms that if anything appeared to be wrong, he was to contact her and Harry at once and they would cut their holiday short. Privately, Ron had promised himself that short of a Death Eater attack, his best friend and his sister would get a chance to relax uninterrupted. After all, he had watched James before for an afternoon or two. How hard could an overnight be?

It had been simple enough earlier in the evening. James had gone straight to sleep after dinner and hadn't so much as whimpered until the early hours of the morning, when Ron had been woken by his squalls. As per Ginny's instructions, he'd changed James' nappy. He'd fed him a bottle. He'd walked up and down the room with him. And James was still wailing.

What on earth was wrong? Was it something Ron was doing? What if this sleepless night disrupted James' development? What if James was seriously messed up because he, Ron, couldn't handle something as simple as getting a baby to go to sleep?

Ron vividly remembered the moment he had first held James in his arms. He had been bloody terrified. He'd held babies before, of course – it couldn't be avoided if you were a Weasley – but he'd never held an infant so tiny, young, and fragile. He'd been in Australia with Hermione for the first couple of months of Teddy's infancy, and after the births of Victoire, Louis, Dominique, and Fred, there'd been dozens of doting aunts and uncles clamoring to hold the newest additions to the clan. In all the chaos that comes with a large extended family, no one had noticed that, on a scale of Ron's fears, babies were a close second to spiders.

But the day after James' premature birth, once the Healers had declared the baby stabilized, Harry and Ginny had called Ron and Hermione into the hospital room at St. Mungo's, and Harry had placed his firstborn son into Ron's trembling hands and asked him to be James' godfather.

It wasn't that he hadn't been expecting it – it was something of a foregone conclusion between the four of them, not to mention the rest of the family – but it was one thing to accept the idea of being godfather, and quite another thing to hold a helpless infant in his arms and realize he was responsible for it.

"You – you really mean it?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Of course we mean it, you great prat," said Ginny, half-annoyed, half-affectionate. "Why on earth wouldn't we ask you?"

The question was rhetorical, but Ron stared down at the tiny red bundle in his arms, avoiding Ginny's gaze. He was Harry's best friend, but Ginny was the one having the baby, after all, and she had always idolized Bill. Hell, she had always been much closer to Fred and George than she was to Ron, especially after they'd all started school.

"I dunno," he said at last, "I just thought that, y'know, Bill's already got loads of experience being a dad, and George already has a boy, so that would make sense. It's not that I don't want to be, I mean, it's just – "

"Ron," said Ginny, laying a hand on his arm, "Stop."

He blinked, and looked up to meet Ginny's eyes, which were at once both fierce and tender.

"When I was trapped in that Chamber with Tom, it wasn't Bill that I was hoping would come down and save me. It wasn't Fred or George. It wasn't even Harry. It was you."

She gave him a moment to let that sink in. "If James here gets himself into trouble one day – and since he's named for two Marauders, I'm sure he will – I want him to know he's got the best bloody godfather a kid could have looking out for him."

"Oh," said Ron, "Well, then."

He could feel himself turning red about the ears. He blinked and looked back down at James.

James smiled back.

"He's smiling! Hey, Hermione, he's smiling at me!"

"Of course he's smiling, you dolt," said Hermione, "He knows who his godfather is."

When Ron had agreed to be godfather, however, he hadn't expected to face such a serious test of his abilities in only nine months. He sat down in the armchair next to the cot, rubbing James' back in circles to no avail. If he couldn't even get his godson to go to sleep, how on earth was Ron going to protect him from basilisks, lethifolds, Dark wizards, and – Merlin forbid – spiders?

"For goodness' sake, Ron," said Hermione, appearing in the doorway, "What's the matter?"

She leaned against the door jamb, dressed in one of Ron's old Chudley Cannons t-shirts, hair tousled and eyes heavy with sleep, and looking distinctly irritated at being up and about at three in the morning. In all fairness, she'd had a bit of an upset stomach the past few days.

"I dunno," Ron said helplessly over James' wails. "He won't settle down, but I've given him a bottle and changed his nappy and I checked his forehead and he's not sick…"

He suddenly had an idea. "Here, Hermione, why don't you take him? Maybe it's me."

He held James out toward her, but she backed up a pace, shaking her head.

"Honestly, Ron," she snapped, "what makes you think I have any idea what to do with a baby that you haven't already tried?"

"I dunno," said Ron, settling James in the crook of his arm, "I just thought you'd know what to do, I mean, Mum and Ginny just seem to have this sort of sixth sense, so – "

"So, because I'm a woman, I clearly must have all the answers when it comes to babies?"

"No, but you helped out Ginny all those times on the weekends…"

"That doesn't mean I know what to do! I only did all the things you said you just did. What makes you think I know where to go from here?"

"Well, maybe James just wants his Mum and you'd be better at that sort of thing –"

"Because I've got such vast experience? Oooh, that's it. I'm going back to bed and casting a Deafening Charm on myself."

And she turned on her heel and flounced out of the room (though how she managed to flounce in a Cannons' tee was anyone's guess).

"Ah, bloody hell. Oops, sorry James, forgot I'm s'posed to watch my language. Oh well. She'll be fine tomorrow morning… erm, maybe tomorrow afternoon, after she's had a nap.

"I mean," he continued defensively, "it's not as though she's clueless when it comes to babies, she helped out on the weekends all the time when your mummy brought you home from the hospital."

Ron flicked a piece of hair out of his face.

"Anyways, no need to worry; in the scheme of things, tonight's nowhere near as bad as some of the things that've happened between me and your Auntie Hermione. Your godfather's got a real knack for sticking his foot in his mouth, you know. A long, long time ago, before you were ever born, I called your auntie a know-it-all and she went off and almost got herself eaten by a troll. Luckily, your daddy and I saved her just in time.

"And even that's not as bad as the time I didn't ask her to the Yule Ball. You want some godfatherly advice, James? You stay away from girls til you're of age. You'll just get yourself in trouble."

Suddenly Ron realized that he was speaking into silence. He looked down at James. His godson's dark brown eyes gazed up at him solemnly.

Ron went over to the cot and started to lay the baby down, but James' face screwed up and Ron hastily launched into the tale of how Auntie Hermione and Uncle Ron and Mummy and Daddy started a secret defense club at Hogwarts.

Half an hour later, Ron's voice was hoarse, but the evil Toad had run away and James was at last sleeping peacefully in his crib. Ron slowly rose from the armchair and nearly fell over backwards when he saw Hermione once again leaning in the doorway.

She rushed to steady him.

"Sorry," she whispered, "I – "

Ron placed a finger over his lips, gesturing with his head towards the (finally!) sleeping baby.

Hermione gave him an apologetic half-smile. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. His arms automatically circled her waist in response.

"Shouldn't've gotten mad," she murmured in his ear. "Don't know how Ginny does it."

"'S okay," he breathed.

The stood like that for a minute, arms around each other, gazing fondly down at James.

Hermione silently broke their embrace and tugged him toward the door. Once they were in the hall, she turned towards him, smiling guiltily.

"I couldn't go back to bed," she whispered. "I felt bad for being so cross. And I have to say, those bedtime stories were awfully entertaining. You're so good with James. I wish… I wish I knew I was going to be as good a Mum as you are a Dad."

"Thanks," said Ron sleepily.

Then her words hit him.

"Wait – are you – are we – "

Hermione's smile was filled with terror and elation and it was absolutely dazzling. She nodded.

Ron barely restrained himself from letting out a loud 'whoop!'. He hugged his wife.

"You'll be brilliant," he murmured, his head buried in her wild mane. "Absolutely brilliant. Our daughter is going to be the smartest, most beautiful – "

"And just what makes you think it's a girl, Ronald Weasley? It could just as easily be a Ronald, Jr., although I think one Ronald is more than enough for any family."

"Hey! Ronald is a perfectly good name… "

Squabbling amicably, they made their way back to their own room and climbed into bed. Hermione soon fell back to sleep, after extracting a promise from Ron to have a more serious discussion in the morning. Ron lay awake, thinking about Hermione's anxiety and excitement. He thought of the countless sleep-interrupted nights he could look forward to and of his adorable godson slumbering peacefully down the hall.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
